


I Am Your God, Call Me Your Master

by smallstarfox



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Attempted Kidnapping, Biting, Bruises, Consensual Sex, Cunnilingus, Dark Character, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, F/F, Finger Sucking, Flirting, Identity Reveal, Intimidation, Loss of Control, Monologue, Neck Kissing, Pet Names, Power Play, Praise Kink, Roleswap, Rough Body Play, Rough Kissing, Roughness, Scratching, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Telepathy, The Author Regrets Nothing, Vaginal Fingering, Voice Kink, Whittaker!Master - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:22:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23120938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallstarfox/pseuds/smallstarfox
Summary: She remembered being with the Doctor. She remembered being on the TARDIS. Except, neither of those things were around her. Instead, she wakes up on a strange ship, with her arms bound, looking over at a strange figure who no doubt brought her there. What do they want with her, and why does Yaz have a sense of deja vu hearing them speak?
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 50
Kudos: 138





	1. I'm Dominant By Definition

**Author's Note:**

> You have no idea how long I have spent looking at tags for this thing and wondering what to even put.  
> ANYWAY just rest assured this isn't going to go somewhere horrible. I promise.  
> I can't write that stuff. This will be a good time, I swear.
> 
> Anyway, guess who hopped on the Whittaker!Master train after pretending it didn't exist for so long and then making a brief plot as a joke that spiralled really hard out of control and got me out of the worst writing funk ever.  
> You aren't ready for the chaos I'm gonna unleash. But, I'm nice.  
> You get a taster. Have fun~

There was a ringing in her ears, a pounding in her head, and pain shooting up her wrists. She grumbled quietly, tried to move but found herself incapable of doing so. If the numbness in her body didn’t scare her, then the fact everything was dark and blurry when she opened her eyes certainly put her on edge. She tried to keep calm though, figure out what it was she last remembered. What had she been doing?

_‘The TARDIS…’_

She had been on the TARDIS with the Doctor. There had been an almighty crash, alarm ringing, lights breaking and drowning her in darkness. Something had taken her, knocked her out, but she never heard them call out to her. Never heard them make a sound in response to her scream. But, what had taken her exactly? She tried to think back to her last conversation with the Doctor, where they were going, but the ever-present pain crushing her skull left her empty and alone. She could see red lights around her, across the ceiling and over the walls, something sitting in the middle of the room she found herself in. It was big, and it looked like some kind of control panel. As the ringing died down, she could hear new sounds. Pipes whistling, steam hissing, something making strange mechanical sounds all around her.

“W...where…”

Her mouth tasted like metal and salt, and something horribly medicinal at the same time. Her tongue was numb and left her words slurred as she tried to speak. Thankfully, her vision was slowly starting to focus on the space around her, making things clearer. She was indeed looking at a command console of some kind. It had a clear central column that rose to the ceiling, leaving all the inner workings on display as it was bathed in deep crimson light. Little lights flickered on and off around the controls, but that wasn’t where she found her attention drawn. No. Something else sent fear into the depths of her soul. A shadow, lingering around one side, obscured from her view but most definitely watching her. When she tried to move again, there was a clink of metal, and flexing her fingers made her almost certain she had been restrained by something. Not the best position to be in. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she tried to talk again.

“Who...who’s there…?”

For the longest time, nothing happened, and she started to wonder if the darkness was just a trick of her imagination. But then, she heard the faintest of noises - a laugh. The figure started to move around the console, beams of red light coming over them and revealing a small part of who, or what, was there. She could see a very dark red shirt, the hint of a black waistcoat decorated with golden clocks, and a black jacket hybridised with a cloak. Otherwise, she was still unsure who was coming her way. Although, she didn’t have to wait long to get a glimpse of a face. Pale skin was framed with light blonde hair, matted and tousled like they had been through the wars and then some, but also perfectly styled to draw attention to their face. Shining hazel-green eyes were framed with dark eyeliner and the faintest hint of smoky shadow, the whole ensemble topped off with tinted lips stretched into a wide smile. As more light came over them, she realised she was being stared down by an imposing woman.

She was walking over slowly, the heels of her heavy boots clicking against the metal floor as she strides with purpose. As she came out of the red light and back into the dim shadows of the room, she could see a dark haze coming over her eyes, topped off with a glint of something much darker. The stare was so piercing, hellbent on boring into her, it took her breath away almost entirely. It didn't help that slender fingers came and took hold of her chin and cheeks with force, lifting her face up to meet her own as a flash of pearly white pointed teeth stopped her heart entirely.

"Hello gorgeous. You can call me Master. I’m _so_ glad you could join me today, I’ve been looking for company for quite a while now. I’m sure they won’t mind me...borrowing you for a little bit. I’m surprised they’re keeping the company of such a fine looking human. Really, you’re such a waste to them."

She remained silent, teeth biting down on her tongue to try and stop the fighting words that were boiling up inside of her. She tried to struggle against the metal around her wrists again, but it was no good at all. Her arms dropped in defeat, eyes turning to the side as she tried to deny her captor the joy of seeing her. But, the fingers against her skin only squeezed her jaw tighter, forcing her to turn back and glare with a burning rage. That seemed to throw her assailant briefly, but not long enough, as she laughed again and shook her head slightly. As she moved, she could smell the distinct hit of cologne. It wrapped around all of her senses and drew her attention in despite her best attempts of restraint.

“Oooh, a fighter this time too. Oh, they haven’t changed a bit. Now then, do tell me your name won’t you? It’ll be nicer to know who exactly I’m dealing with. And who I have to make an apology note out to the Doctor for.”

Again, she remained silent, eyes narrowing in the darkness to keep memorising the face in front of her. Once she was back with the Doctor, she needed to let them know who exactly had taken her. Master? That wasn’t going to fly at all. The only person who had a moniker was the Doctor. Her continued resistance to talking was doing her no favours though, as the woman in flashed her teeth again in an irritated snarl as she raised her other hand. Her nails were coated in black nail polish, slightly chipped, and despite being cut short they still dug into her skin.

“Fine. Let’s do this the hard way then shall we.”

Two fingers came past her field of vision, brushing past her curled hair and coming to rest against her temple. For a moment, nothing happened, but soon she was groaning as a bitter voice rang out inside her head.

_‘Contact.’_

Even with the hand gripping her jaw, her mouth twisted into a painful gasp as she felt her head burning and tearing apart. Her mind was being contorted, walked through, trampled over as the Master came and ravaged her thoughts with her presence.

_‘The more you struggle, the more this is going to hurt. Be a good girl and let me find what I’m looking for. All I want to know is your name, sweetheart.’_

Panic rose in her chest, making it rise and fall at a rapid rate as she all but silently screamed. She was granted respite when both hands moved away from her face. Her head dropped down as she gasped for air, coughing in between each intake of breath, blocking out the contented hum of the Master. The only person she had ever seen use telepathy like that was the Doctor...which meant....which meant…

“They didn’t tell you about me, hmm? Oh, what a _terrible_ friend the Doctor is. I thought we had something special, them and I. Still, I can see why they’re so fond of you, Yasmin Khan. A decorated police officer. So their type. But there’s more than that. Oh, I saw it all. Your ability for compassion and love and fair-play. Ugh...you’re such a perfect little girl. Except...there’s even more to you than all of that, isn’t there?”

  
  
Tears stung her eyes as Yaz lifted up her head and looked at the Master. Strands of her hair fell over her eyes, and were moved away with the gentlest of touches. Something she all but flinched away from. The Master pouted in response, rolling her eyes before folding her arms over her chest and pouting like a small child. There were too many thoughts going on in her head, too many memories and ideas leaking into each other after the telepathic touch, enough to make her want to scream again. But, something in the Masters words was putting her even more on edge.

“More to me, how?”

Still her words were dry and bitter, but her voice was slowly returning. Yaz flinched again when the Master suddenly started to clap loudly, Cheshire grin painted over her face again as she cackled and crooned.

“Now that’s the right question, Yaz to her friends! It doesn’t matter that you’ve just been kidnapped, restrained, held against your will. Oh no. No, that’s not important here. You want to know what I’ve found lurking inside your head, don’t you? Those little dark, twisted thoughts you think you’re so good at hiding. Which, you are, I’m sure the Doctor has never once noticed them. They like you _far_ too much to go probing around. Shame really, that they don’t know what I do now.”

Setting her teeth on edge and jerking against the restraints, Yaz tried to bring herself as close to the Master as possible as she spat out a response.

“What did you see?”

The Master lifted a finger and pressed it against her lips, cool skin a stark contrast to the heat of her own body. She winked, tongue bobbing out between her pristine lips briefly.

“You don’t love them like they love you. You don’t love them at all. You want something... _more_. Something that they can’t give you.”

  
She whispered, so close to Yaz’s own face that she felt her cheeks heating up just from the proximity alone. Never mind the sudden revelation being thrown at her. Of course the Master had found that out about her. Considering the predicament she was in, it seemed just like the kind of thing she would do. But, why had the Doctor never mentioned her at any point? Surely that information would have been useful to her. What were they hiding? The Master clearly delighted in the realisation dawning on her, her eyes lighting up and widening as she continued to smile.

“Has the Doctor ever tried to kiss you, Yaz?”

“W-what?!”

The Master laughed again, twisting some of her golden hair around one finger as she looked over to the opposite side of the room almost longingly.

“Oh, I saw it. Don’t worry. They have. That damned lothario. Could never quite keep it to themselves once they had a...fixation. That’s all you are to them, you know. A passing _fixation_. Even if the Doctor has confessed their undying love for you, they only like your pure values. Your valour. Courage. All the virtues of humanity. That’s what they love. Although, that doesn’t really matter to you, does it Yaz? Least of all because you don’t like them that way. Which frustrates them. But, I know what you like. You couldn’t hide it for very long.”

Yaz shrank back against the pillar she was trapped to, fingers knotting together in fear as she tried to hide her face again. Fear was making way for curiosity at such a rapid rate, that it confused her. Why was she so drawn to the Master’s words? They were just words. It was a game, it had to be. A way to get her attention for...some reason she hadn’t quite worked out yet. What did the Master even want her for? Was it just to get at the Doctor for something she had no idea about? Whatever it was, it was starting to get to her, and she could feel her resolve failing by the second. The Master picked up on her indecisiveness, stepping closer to her again. She was close enough that Yaz could feel the cloak sleeves of her coat brushing up against her thighs, sending shivers down her spine from the contact. At the sound of a tongue click, Yaz turned her eyes, keeping her head to one side just in case. The Master had let her head tilt, styled flicks bouncing against her cheekbone as she studied her expression. The silence between them was uncomfortable, the proximity even more so, and it was not helped when Yaz felt both pale hands creeping up the front of her leather jacket until they were wrapped around the lapels.

“Do you, possibly, find me...attractive?”

That brought Yaz’s head around sharp, mouth dropping as she stared in utter disbelief at the smirk twitching at the corner of her lips.

“E-excuse me?!”

With the same laughter ringing around in her ears, it took Yaz a few moments before she could even talk again. All words failed her as the Master revelled in her confusion and bewilderment.

“That wasn’t a no, now, was it? Good. I can work with this.”

“What do you mean, wo-”

She wasn’t sure what happened first, the sound of her own voice trailing off into the darkness, or the feeling of fingers around her throat. Yaz expected a sting of pain, to feel the air leaving her lungs and cutting off her brain, but it never came. Instead, while her body was froze, the Master just lingered with her hand against her throat, staring her down. A few seconds later, she could feel her index finger tapping against her pulse point. Each stroke of the pad of her finger was in time to the hammering of her heart, thumb pressing ever so slightly harder on the opposite side of her neck. Yaz kept her breath held, eyes holding the gaze, until soon it became too much. The Master seemed to notice and dropped her hand, giving her just enough room to breathe and process the cacophony of thoughts inside her head. It wasn’t just fear she was feeling now – no – there was something else too.

Dark brown eyes watched as the Master slowly moved around to her side, body leaning precariously around the post she was attached to, one leg kicking out comedically as she did so. A familiar click and buzz broke through the silence, and Yaz found her arms rapidly dropping down and knocking against the cold grey metal. She quickly brought her wrists up to her face, checking for the bruising she assumed was there. Except, she was fine. Not a scratch. Safe for the sore muscles, the Master hadn’t done anything to her at all.

“There. That’s a bit better, isn’t it Yaz?”

Suddenly appearing on her right side, Yaz jumped a step away, shooting daggers at her…would-be assailant. Although, she was starting to doubt her motives, if there were any at all. The Master continued to slowly circle around her, eying her up from all angles with wild eyes and a twitching smile. Straightening herself out and crossing her arms over her chest, she started to track her movements and twist to keep up with her.

“Why’re you letting me go all of a sudden?”

“’cause I want to. It’s more fun when you can move about. Dunno, could also just be boredom. Or! Maybe I do have a plan for you. Or, is it you I’m even after at all? Who says I’m not trying to get to the Doctor and using you as bait? What if – counterpoint to all this – I’m making everything up and I’m just some intergalactic nutcase looking to get a cheap thrill? Use your powers of deduction, Yaz, all that police training. Think you can work out who I really am? What is it that I really want?”

  
The Master moved around her like a dancer, if that were possible. She certainly wasn’t acting like an all-out predator. Her movements were light and jovial, fluid even, although perhaps that was also just a game she was playing. Yaz had no idea which way was up, what was down, but she did have some facts to go on. Firstly, whatever had been holding her in place had been taken away by some kind of sonic device. It was impossible to mistake that noise. Sadly, it didn’t prove a Time Lord theory at all, unless she counted the strange title and telepathic abilities. Secondly, the Master clearly knew the Doctor in some capacity. Not in a living legend kind of way, definitely something more personal. Thirdly…she was toying with her. Goading her. Trying to get something out of her. Everything she did appeared random and uncoordinated, but Yaz could see the clear calculation and purpose in her eyes. The dilated pupils. Her tongue lashing over her lips at random intervals. Testing her pulse.

“Why don’t you actually introduce yourself to me this time? Who are you…Master?”

Just the name itself felt like poison on her tongue and in her blood, and yet it also set her on edge in the most delightful way possible. Even forcing the hints of a smirk to cross her own face ever so slightly. Why was she indulging her in her madcap games? Whatever the reason, perhaps playing along was her ticket out of…wherever she was, and back to the Doctor. Or. She could stick around long enough to find out what the Master had unravelled deep in her subconsciousness. Yaz watched the Master stop mid-stride, head cocking to one side again as she paused and thought. Even the mechanical noises of the room seemed to quieten down at the question.

“You really want to know who I am, Yasmin Khan?”

Yaz nodded with purpose, quickly regretting her decision as she was soon faced with the Master in incredibly close proximity. She could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest against the velveteen shirt, and the glimmer of unrelenting chaos in her eyes.

“I was born on Gallifrey, with the Doctor. We grew up together, went to the Academy…but while they went on to achieve so much greatness…what I saw in the Untempered Schism drove me completely and utterly mad. I chose the name Master, to make everyone else tumble at my feet. Instil fear in their hearts as I ravage their homes…burn everything to the ground…tear down everything the Doctor had ever loved about the universe. I have killed so many people. Thousands. Millions. Billions even. Time Lords. Humans. It doesn’t matter to me. Whoever stands in my way will become ash and dust under my boot. I live for the screams of terror, the thrill of the hunt, the shimmer of tears across the cheeks of orphaned children and dying parents alike. You want to know who I am? I am your worst fears brought to life. Does that scare you?”

  
While she started off strong and loud, posturing, the Master’s voice gently fell to the faintest of hissed whispers. She moved a step a sentence, backing Yaz around until her back collided with the console and there was barely a hair's breadth between them both. Her eyes were constantly moving, scanning her, waiting for any slip of resolve. Yaz felt the fear, felt it rise up inside of her and block out everything that wasn’t the woman in front of her. But, no matter how much she tried to hide it, she couldn’t stop time and erase the microsecond where her gaze darted to the Master’s lips.

“No.”

That, threw the Master off. Her head drew back, eyes wide. She paused, gradually narrowing her eyes again before resting both hands on her hips and questioning her.

“No? What do you mean, no? I’m the most dangerous creature in the universe! I’m the complete antithesis to your _precious_ Doctor! I’m the Master! How in Rassilon’s name can you even think of saying no?! You impertinent, insignificant, inconsequential, insolent little-”

“Because, I saw something too.”

Yaz had no idea where her thoughts were going, why her mouth was betraying her, but she understood perfectly well that the Master was nowhere used to being spoken back to. She was going to use that to her advantage, even if a little part of her felt sullied from the idea alone. She took a step away from the console – glad to have its jagged edges far away from her spine – and watched as the Master tried desperately to process the new information handed to her. Yaz didn’t know if it was possible to work two ways with telepathy, but the quirked eyebrow she received in response certainly made it appear plausible enough.

“Oh really. You did, did you? Tell me, Yaz, what do you think you saw?”

She was stepping into her personal space again, with long and sure strides, squaring up until they were chest to chest and staring each other down with intent. There was a definite crackle of something in the air, something charged and ready to snap at a moment's notice, a tension that Yaz realised she had never really had with the Doctor. It was new – exciting even – and something she wanted to hold onto with both hands.

“That you’re not just trying to get at me, to stab the Doctor in the back. You are bored. You’re after something different, just like I am.”

There was a strong, bold tone to her voice, and Yaz was amazed that the Master once again seemed to pause and falter under her gaze. Although, it certainly didn’t last for too long, as two hands came to rest on her shoulders and grip firmly.

  
“Oh, you naïve little human. Of course I’m looking for something different. Being thousands of years old gets to be a drag. You really think that is going to get to me? No. No, it won’t. Because that’s nothing compared to what I know about you. You don’t just want different, you want danger. _Thrill_. Something dark and depraved and decidedly not human at all. You think I haven’t seen your eyes wandering? Fear and arousal are not too dissimilar from each other. They’re all just chemical reactions in the brain that we interpret however we desire. You want a challenge, and you think I can give it to you. You think I’m going to take whatever I want and be done with you. Well, guess what Yaz? That’s beyond even me. I’m a callous, cold-blooded murderer. An agent of chaos and destruction. I live to break people down and leave nothing but myself behind.”

The Master stepped away again, rolling her eyes and flamboyantly flicking her hair to one side.

“I don’t go and deprave consent in such a _disgusting_ manner. The title ‘Master’ doesn’t imply that I’m a carnal predator.”

Just like that, everything tumbled, and the Master turned on her heels and made her way around to another side of the console. Yaz could hear her flicking buttons and pulling levers, finally clicking that she was indeed on another TARDIS. However, the sudden twist back to blasé and uncaring left her reeling. Craning her neck over her shoulder, she felt the TARDIS move under her feet, a lot quieter than her Doctor’s own. Within a matter of seconds, it was silent again, and the Master had crossed her arms over her chest again and was gesturing towards the doors with her eyes.

“And for that, you shall now vacate my beloved TARDIS and go back to your pitiful excuse of a Time Lord. It was nice knowing you, Yasmin Khan. Definitely one of my more interesting kidnappings for sure. Have an awful life.”

The doors of the TARDIS opened out onto some unknown planet that Yaz vaguely recognised as the last place she saw the Doctor. There, just in the distance, was the blue police box that was her home. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it all anymore. Darting her eyes between the outside world and the Master, Yaz took several steps closer to escape, but couldn’t bring herself to take the final plunge. Something was holding her back. She knew exactly what; the Master being right about her. Sure, she had everything she could want; a decent rank in the police force, a loving family, great friends, the chance to explore the universe. But nothing excited her anymore. Nothing brought her the same joy, the same sense of...freedom. Even being chased around planets with the Doctor, everything was growing dull and monotonous. Go somewhere. Get caught up in chaos. Save the day. Rinse and repeat. She wouldn’t trade what she had for anything...except maybe the chance for something more. Even for a day. Or, just a night.

Was she really about to risk everything, just for the allure of a dangerous stranger?


	2. I'm Turned On By Your Submission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She couldn't believe what she was doing, what her body wanted, so much so that Yaz cursed the very universe itself for containing such beauty in something so dangerous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold onto your hats folks, we are going in hard and fast!  
> (This is entirely self-indulgant and I am not sorry in the slightest, we are all thirsty)

“You’re just...letting me go? Really?”

Tilting her head slightly, the Master nodded, eyebrows furrowed together.

“Yes. I am. Now, go. Go on. Scram. Vamoose. Shoo. Au Revoir. Toodle loo. Bye bye”

Taking a final look at the door, Yaz made a show of leaving, before turning around and walking up to the Master again and watching her expression change from infuriated boredom to confusion. Her posture visibly tensed, clearly uncomfortable at the rapid turn of events, shoulders falling back and lifting up enough that her hair bent up and the ends and crumpled around her face. Even with the faint red glow behind her, Yaz had to admit she no longer found her intimidating. Not in a panicked way at least. The more she stared at her, the more she noticed little things about her. The freckles across her cheeks, the little scar on her chin, the way her face was the most expressive part about her and clearly gave away more than she wanted. She was the one looking panicked, but only slightly. It didn’t take long for the dark glaze to come over her eyes again and shield her from further analysis.

“You aren’t leaving...why aren’t you leaving? Why? I kidnapped you. Chained you up. Berated you. Made myself at home in your mind. Dragged up your secrets. Told you I was the actual scourge of the universe. And yet you’re not running away? You should be fleeing back to your Doctor with tears in your eyes and a wound to carry for a lifetime. They should be coming to take my neck for this! Who are you really, Yasmin Khan? What secrets haven’t you given up to me? What is making you tick right now?”

“The fact you’re so clearly on edge trying to work out my motive. When really, that’s the reverse of what you wanted to happen. You wanted me to try and work you out, but I’ve done that. You’re all posture and no bite, Master. If you were as dangerous as you claimed, why did you let me go?”

There it was again. The spark. The flickering flame that was growing brighter and burning hotter with every passing second. The undeniable crackle of electricity between the two of them that was drawing Yaz in. She could feel her heart quickening, pounding in her ears, setting sweat to coat her palms as she held them close to her hips. All her own posturing and peacocking seemed to be quickly taking its toll on the Master, as she scowled and leant forward just close enough for Yaz to feel her breath against her skin. Her eyes were narrowed again, lips curling up just enough for her to flash the hints of pointed teeth again, jaw clenched tightly. It was clear she wanted to answer, to come back with sass and snark, but she was incapable. The Master had been bested by a plucky human from Yorkshire. Or, so Yaz thought.

The doors closed with a thunderous clap, a gust of cool air catching her hair. But that wasn’t what took the wind out of her. As the room fell dark and bathed only in the blood red glow of the ceiling lights, Yaz felt hands on her arms twist her around and push her hard into the back of the console. The Master leered over her with a snarl on her lips, using every ounce of her slight frame to hold her in place as venom poured out of her throat and caressed her cheeks.

“All posture and no bite? You think I’m not dangerous? Oh, you’re going to regret making light of me, trust me. I’m not fun when I’m angry. You sure you want to do this, Yasmin Khan?”

The rage and fury in the Master’s eyes was only tempered by another kind of desire smouldering within dilated pupils. All she wanted to do was take, and Yaz found herself perfectly at peace with that option. Despite the pain in her arms, in her back, the dull ache still in the back of her head, she weighed up all her options and quietly sighed out her less than articulate response.

“Yes.”

Grin somehow spreading even wider, the Master purred low and deep in her throat, shifting a hand up Yaz’s arm and grazing her fingers across the side of her neck. By the time she had once again wrapped herself around her jaw, Yaz had completely given over every scrap of self agency to the renegade Time Lord. Her posture slouched as she tilted her head back on command, never once letting her eyes waver from the intense stare. All of her senses were set alight; the smell of cologne, the feel of cool fingers, the sound of heavy breaths and taste of something addictive in the air. Yaz let herself fall - desperately so - eyes fluttering closed as blonde hair caressed her cheek and warm air trailed over the shell of her ear.

“The safe word is  _ Doctor _ .”

Of course it was.

Yaz had no time to question her infuriating choice of words, finding herself far too busy trying to keep herself breathing when she felt cool lips press into the curve of her jaw. The Master was quick and clever with her movements, easily finding which parts of her were the best places to attack, how to make her go weak at the knees. If it weren't for the console behind her, Yaz was sure she would have dropped to the floor. Each kiss was addictive in its own right, the Master laying them across to her chin and back again until she was gliding down her neck. Her hands moved to her shoulders, sliding over the supple leather of her jacket and groping at it to prise it down her arms. Yaz shifted under her relentless kisses, biting down on her tongue as she shucked the jacket onto the console and suppressed an eager moan as sharp teeth made themselves known to her.

The Master could taste the salt on her skin, revelled in the smooth texture of Yaz as she pushed and clung harder to her. She could feel her muscles tensing under her lips, but it wasn't enough for her. She needed to hear her, listen to her sing in the dulcet tones she knew only the Doctor's most favoured companion could have. More pressure was applied with suction from her lips, body pushing up against Yaz as hands wandered over the bare skin of her arms. But she was strong willed, wasn't budging, and that infuriated the Master to no end. With a growl in her throat and nails digging into her arms, she bit down harder still - wondered how long it would be before she cracked the skin - before she heard it. Droves and droves of adrenaline shot through her body and heat flooded deep into the pit of her stomach as she heard a groan tear through Yaz's throat and reverberate throughout her TARDIS.

It was sweet ambrosia to her ears, and nothing like she ever could have thought up from pouring through her mind.

She detached herself, leaving nothing to cool or soothe the bruising skin, instead travelling to another spot on her new toy's neck and repeating the process again. This time, Yaz was more forthcoming with her vocalisation, and the Master felt her hands come away from the console to cling hard to her hips as she hissed and moaned so beautifully. Oh, the Doctor would know she had left her mark - corrupted her even - and she was so ready to see what would become of little Yaz after the fact. Until then, she loathed to admit there was indeed something addictive about the taste of her under her tongue. She was a bouquet of spices and fire, warmth and hunger all wrapped into one strong and sure package. In all her thousands of years, she had never come across a human so decedent and alluring. She was giving herself over so willingly, that the Master swore she had won the jackpot lottery in life.

Again she moved over, shifting trajectory until she was leaving mark after delightful mark across every inch of her skin, painting her neck and throat into deep blossoming bruises until tears pricked at her eyes and she begged for more.

"Ah, p-please…"

The Master paused, letting go of her current piece of flesh and rising up to look Yaz dead in the eyes. Her skin was already shining with sweat, flushed dark maroon and mouth parted. It was inviting.

"Please what?"

"P-please Master...I-"

She didn't need to hear anything else. Just her name rolling so beautifully off the lips of a willing human was enough to send heat straight between her legs and spark a long since extinct fire inside her hearts. The Master lurched forward and frantically took hold of her lips with her own, swallowing up every drop of pleasured moans that rose up from Yaz's throat. Hands soon knotted themselves deep into thick curled tresses, roughened fingertips pressing into her scalp and tipping her head back and using her height to her advantage. Her lips tasted just as sweet as the rest of her did, leading the Master to draw more sounds out of Yaz by sliding her knee in between her legs and keening up. The result was near instantaneous. Yaz's hips rocked and her weight pressed down against her thigh, leaving the Master groaning in pleasure as she pulled back to witness her handiwork. Swollen lips greeted her, her ears privy to the sounds of her heavy breathing and whine in her tone. The Master smirked wide, eyes slowly tracking up and down her body.

"I have to say, you've surprised me. So eager and willing. I'm impressed. Now then…"

With her leg still firmly in place, the Master leant back just enough to slide her cloaked jacket from her body, rolling her shoulders and twisting her neck with a chuckle. She wondered if Yaz was expecting to be taken to a bedroom or something like that, or if she knew that the Master had no intention of contemplating the idea at all. She was happy having her just where she was. Her hands shifted out of Yaz's hair and slid up the front of her waistcoat, toying with the buttons and watching the way Yaz's mouth dropped in anticipation. She took her time teasing each button individually, slowly popping them free and letting the silken fabric part to reveal her crimson fitted shirt. The top two buttons were already undone, laying bear an expanse of milky white skin and the sharp lines of her collarbones. If Yaz hadn't have stopped breathing before, she had then. Her hands continued to grip the angular console hard, focusing all her energy on not grinding her hips down again and starting to settle the twisted knot in her stomach.

Much to her chagrin, The Master noticed her struggling and seemed to endeavour to make it worse.

"You know, if you'd like to touch me, then you can start by taking off my waistcoat and this pesky shirt for me. Will you be good for your Master?"

Yaz felt her mouth go dry at the prospect of touching the Master, a small and very quiet part of her brain wondering just at what point she had come around to the idea of being a submissive plaything for a crazed Time Lord. Whatever it was, she didn’t care. The only thoughts running around inside her brain that made any sense all involved the woman in front of her. Trying to lick her lips as subtly as possible – no doubt failing by the amused glint in the Master’s eyes – she slowly moved her hands away from the jagged metal and fixed her fingers around either side of the waistcoat front. It was undeniably soft and smooth, the golden and bronze stitching of clocks and what she knew as Gallifreyan were a delight under her fingertips. As she pulled the fabric aside, the Master rolled and shrugged her shoulders again, pulling her arms free and smiling as Yaz dropped the waistcoat on top of her already discarded jacket. Now uncovered, to some degree, Yaz briefly took the opportunity to take in the Master’s visage as a whole. By human standards she looked only around her early thirties, with the hard muscle tone of someone who clearly looked after herself. Then again, underneath the trail of golden buttons, she could see the swell of full hips and the outlines of a subtly soft stomach curving the velveteen fabric.

In order to speed up the process somewhat - only slightly off put by the way Yaz was sizing her up in kind - the Master simultaneously moved her hands around her wrists and guided her to the top most button of her shirt, whilst she applied another amount of pressure with her knee and all but purred again as Yaz groaned low and long without a care. She really was a treat.

“Oh god…”

“In your eyes, yes I am.”

Cursing under her breath, Yaz set about carefully undoing each of the buttons presented to her. With the sweat coating her fingers, she found it harder than expected, freezing up when she heard the Master click her tongue against her teeth and tut twice over. Hands came around her wrists again and positioned her hands back against the console, briefly leaving Yaz confused until everything fell into place. Rolling her eyes with a huff, the Master took hold of the open front of her shirt and simply yanked her hands down with considerable force. Gold buttons scattered across the floor and fell between the grated floor tiles. Yaz’s eyes widened considerably as she watched the now torn garment drop down with a silent thud, the Master now standing bare chested in front of her. Even with the red glow surrounding them, Yaz could see the masses of freckles dancing across her chest and how they stood out like stars in the night. How had she gone so long without witnessing such a glorious sight? There was no time for her to ponder, however, as the Master moved to take the hem of her pastel pink jumper and started to drag it up her body. Arms scrambled to be free of the clinging knitwear, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed perched atop her knee in just her jeans and a faded plum t-shirt bra.

Not that the Master seemed to care at all.

She was on her again, still kissing her feverishly, her hands starting to roam down her arms and grazing over her stomach. She hummed in approval at the expanse of skin she was offered up, gradually moving her kisses back down the tender skin of her neck and busying herself in removing Yaz’s bra with finesse and grace. It didn’t take long after that before she felt the electric touch of skin on skin as the Master pressed into her and caused her to arch back into the console from the force. Her head was swimming, hands gripping to the metal for dear life as she suddenly felt very aware of everything around her. The Master’s body was cool and smooth, gliding against her like nothing she had ever felt before, her kisses burning into her as they moved over her shoulder and down over her sternum until her lips were resting square in the valley between her breasts and teeth grazed over the thin skin there. She gasped, one hand moving to grip hard against the Master’s shoulder and keep her moving south, hips twitching against her thigh as she started to shift across her left breast. Hot breath ghosted over her skin as she felt lips hovering so close to her nipple that Yaz had to restrain herself from pushing her chest out and just forcing the contact she needed to restart her brain again.

“Sing for me, Yaz.”

When soft and supple lips wrapped themselves around her nipple, Yaz’s brain didn’t just restart, she could feel cascades of fireworks electrifying her brain as both hands soon came to anchor herself against the Master’s shoulders. As her tongue lashed and twisted across her skin, the Master took one hand and repeated her gestures across Yaz’s right breast, whilst her free hand drew welts of red nail lines down the side of her. Yaz gasped and groaned, teeth gripping her lower lip as she tried to remain silent. She knew that the Master wanted to hear her – evidenced by how desperately she was trying to add pain to the pleasure – but Yaz had enough resolve left not to give her the satisfaction. At least, that was until she felt the twinge of teeth against her skin.

Pain was not something she was familiar with, nor something she ever thought she would enjoy, but everything about the Master’s touch was igniting something dormant inside her. No alcohol she was barred from, no drugs she could consume, no earthly delights at all could dare compare to the Master. She knew that then. Fingers and tongue worked her over with such skill, such precision, that she could no longer hide her pleasure. Yaz ground down hard against the Master's thigh, bucking as she threw her head back and writhed whilst the Master swapped sides and continued to ravish her.

Unbeknownst to Yaz, the Master was just as high herself. It felt beyond words to her to be experiencing what she was. She continued to scratch and claw down Yaz's side, marking it up the same as the other, feeling herself grow hotter by the second. Her fitted black trousers were becoming a pain, stifling her and restricting her movements. Plus, she also needed to taste more of Yaz. With a playful pop, the Master began to lay hot open mouthed kisses across her ribs and down over her stomach. She could feel the hard lines of Yaz's muscles underneath her, loved how they twitched and tensed from her touch. The Doctor was a fool for not giving her what she needed, but from the looks of things, they really were incapable. No matter, she could do so much better. She could make Yaz feel so good, and she would do just that. Teeth nipped at her skin again as she moved lower and lower, until her nose was brushing over the top of her jeans. Even with so much fabric in the way, the Master could taste her arousal in the air and savoured it. It physically hurt to tear herself away, but her own needs were surmounting and becoming harder to ignore.

The Master drew both hands up the front of Yaz's stomach, eyes greedily wandering over her flushed body. She could wait to touch her. It would be a crying shame to waste such an opportunity on a whim. Her new goal; break Yaz into doing her bidding. With a whine in her voice, the Master gave her best puppy eyes and drew Yaz's attention towards her.

"All this is making me far too warm, Yaz. I'm burning up. As much as I want to show you a good time, I'm far too distracted to have fun. Do you think you could help a woman out? I'm sure you can handle that responsibility. You look incredibly capable."

Yaz paused, carefully watching how the Master took a step back from her and spread her arms wide as if to invite her in. They stayed locked in a stalemate, neither making another move towards each other, not until Yaz weighed up her options. She had already been wound up far too much for her liking, the dull ache between her legs only getting worse with each passing second. Still, the Master didn't seem like the type to want to wait around for her to decide, if evidenced by her alluring smile. Yaz could take her on. She had enough tricks up her sleeve.

"Come now, Yaz. I thought you wanted this. You can be as rough as you want. I won't bite. Much. Show me what all that police training has been good for."

That settled it. Yaz strode over and crashed herself into the Master, bringing their lips together in a heated exchange of passion. She was surprised to find the Master really did melt into her hands. She entangled herself into her hair, kept walking her back until her back hit the same pillar she had previously been locked down against.

The resounding grunt was swallowed whole as Yaz tugged her lip between her teeth and slid her tongue into her mouth. She let her hands soon wander down the Master's arms and feel the strength in them before arching her back enough to cup two full breasts and start to knead them between her fingers. Thumbs ran over quickly rising nipples as Yaz turned her attention to running her lips along the Master's jaw. When she reached the upward curve, she traveled down the sleek drop of her neck until she felt the fluttering of dual heartbeats. The Master craned her neck and moaned as she felt teeth graze over her skin. Although, Yaz was far too gentle with her bite, which frustrated her.

"Harder, baby. Make your Master proud."

Yaz did as instructed, almost moaning into the bite as the Master hissed and dug her nails into her back. Her hips keened into her own, as if she were trying to rut. As her teeth held firm, she continued to work her palms against soft breasts and pinch sensitive nipples between her thumb and forefinger. The more she heard the Master moan above her, the more her mind wandered to how far she was allowed to go with things. Finally letting go of her neck, Yaz dragged her hands down and lay her kisses over her collarbone until her fingertips slid under the tight fitting waistband of her trousers. Emboldened by encouraging sounds, Yaz began to undo the triple buttons of the high waisted garment, almost losing her cool as she started to push them down over her hips and drag her knuckles over the bones. She shuddered as she heard them drop to the floor, pausing her kisses as the Master turned to anchor her hands atop her shoulders and draw her attention with a purr.

"Oh, you are a smart one. But here's an idea though."

With a yelp of surprise, Yaz felt a sharp amount of pressure against her body and dropped down onto her knees with a hiss, looking up to see the Master leering at her with a knowing grin. She stroked one hand through her hair and shushed her, resting the other against her hip as Yaz's eyes darted between her face and her lace trimmed shorts.

"I like you better when you're on your knees. You look so beautiful. Now then…”

Her hands moved again - somehow never truly at rest - until her fingers darted underneath her shorts and slowly pulled them down her hips to finally reveal herself in her entirety. When she kicked them aside, Yaz couldn’t help but let her eyes wander over her again. However, the Master wouldn’t let her rest for too long. She opened herself up completely, lifting one leg and languidly draping it over Yaz’s shoulder and pushing her closer with the heel of her boot. It hurt, the ridges digging in between her shoulder blades, but Yaz was more concerned at how quickly the Master was ramping things up. She definitely knew what she wanted from her. Had it been her game all along? Whatever it was, fingers twisted into her hair again and gently coaxed her head up until brown eyes were staring at the Master as her mouth instinctively dropped. Her throat was dry, so very dry, and all it took was another nudge of her head before she was quenching another kind of thirst. Her nose brushed up past neatly trimmed hairs, lips gliding over the Master before her tongue dipped out and into the awaiting molten heat. She took a slow lick from deep between her folds, considerably close to blacking out just from hearing the decidedly feminine moan of the Master grace her ears.

She tasted sweet - of course she did - and she was far more worked up than Yaz had ever dreamed of. Clearly, she was turned on by the whole ordeal. It worked well in Yaz’s favour, as she repeated the motion twice over until she could feel the Master’s leg quaking against her shoulder. The tip of her tongue tripped over her clit, stopping to swirl shallow circles over it while the Master continued to croon her praises in a language she could hardly understand. Fingers tightened in her hair, encouraging her further. Yaz moved faster, sliding one of her hands up a smooth thigh until it slotted around and cupped her backside and squeezed. That made the Master shudder again, her free hand coming up to her left breast and guiding her thumb to draw over her nipple. In the moment Yaz looked up from her work, she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing, moaning against slick skin as her own arousal hit new levels. Gods, she needed release. In between her heady moans, the Master dropped her head with a lopsided smile and whispered to her.

“Fuck me.”

Never in her life had she heard those words, but Yaz swore nothing would ever beat them coming from the husky drawl of the Master. While she held on tight to her backside, Yaz took her free hand and ran it up the inside of the Master’s thigh until she was pressing a finger underneath her tongue and delving further into her. With one crook, she was slipping inside, running the pad of her finger over just the right spot to make the Master stagger her name. She repeated it like a mantra as Yaz licked and sucked and thrust her finger in time to the shallow breathing of the Time Lord. Another finger followed suit, pushing up to the knuckle as her pace quickened and everything soon blurred into one. Yaz had no idea where she started and the Master ended, the two of them intertwined in a sensual overload that extended beyond their mortal bodies. The fire enveloped her, consumed her, drove her forward with every stroke of her tongue. She needed the Master to come. She needed it more than she needed to breathe, and she would gladly starve herself of oxygen if it meant pleasing her.

“Oh, I’m so close...so close Yaz. Fuck me harder. Give me all you’ve got…”

A flash of heat and a flood of arousal threatened to drown Yaz as she began to push a third finger deep into the Master, feeling the stretch and the flutter of muscles, tongue lapping up every small drop of precious ambrosia she could. Nails dug into the back of her skull as she moved her tongue in tighter circles around the Master’s clit. Her dedication was soon rewarded. Pain sparked between her shoulders and in the back of her head as the Master pushed hard against her, but her body grew taut as she cried out. Yaz felt every single contraction of her walls around her, gently easing herself off from the full onslaught until she could drop her head and heave a heavy sigh. Her lungs ached, every muscle was sore and crying out, but as she withdrew her fingers and gazed at the lingering arousal around them, she couldn’t help but feel smug. She had done that. She had broken the Master. So much so that she shakily removed her leg and slightly dipped down against the column, body still quivering as she tried to catch her breath. Yaz pushed herself up to stand, eying the Master with a smirk as her fingers glistened pink from the lights around them.

“Not so brazen now, are you Master?”

Her moment of pride was short lived, and her brain was back to being unable to form any kind of coherent thought, as the Master glared at her. It was such a paralysing stare, that she never noticed her hand being yanked close to the waiting lips of the Time Lord or felt her tongue start to wrap around her fingers. She couldn’t help but close her eyes and groan, plaiting her legs together and trying to create enough friction to settle the now burning ache and growing knot. When she felt her fingers be released, Yaz dared open her eyes, just catching the blatant wink thrown at her.

“Careful Yaz, if you keep sassing me like that, I might just not let you go after all. I do like the feisty ones after all. But back to business.”

She kissed her suddenly, removing any chance for Yaz to talk back at all, her hands all over her and settling a spark travelling through every nerve in her body. The Master was warmer now, softer somehow, even a little more gentle in her touch. She made light work of her jeans, although Yaz did have to trip and stumble her way out of them until they were finally kicked elsewhere. There was no time to breathe - not between such domineering kisses - and certainly moreso when nimble fingers made their way into her underwear and ran through her so easily. It was embarrassing how aroused she was, although that was the last thing on her mind when she moaned in relief. The Master knew exactly what she was doing with her fingers, moving so slowly against her that Yaz wanted to scream and curse her out for drawing her so close to the edge without any reward for her previous efforts. She even whined like a petulant child when she felt her underwear moving down her thighs, body slouching as she mentally begged for things to move quicker. It was so much less of a want and so much more a need, a burning all-consuming need to be touched by the Master.

“I want you on the floor. Lie down. Anywhere will do.”

Yaz wasted no time in doing as instructed, dropping down to her knees and laying herself across the floor. The metal was cold against her skin and she welcomed the contrast, sucking a breath between her teeth as she watched the Master return to kissing and licking her way across her breasts. Her hands curled as she arched up into the contact, eyes closing shut swiftly as she let herself be taken in by everything. She felt the Master move further down, nipping and clawing at her skin from her hips all the way down her thighs. Her legs parted naturally, allowing the Time Lord to effortlessly slot down between them as she gradually made her way back up again. The anticipation was killing her, and Yaz could feel everything tensing up until the point she felt warm breath tickling the juncture of her thigh and giving her goosebumps. Once again, nothing came, and one again Yaz found herself twitching and whining as if she was owed something. She opened her eyes when she heard the Master’s low laughter.

“Say the magic word, sweetheart.”

She was above begging. She wasn’t going to stoop that low. She was going to-

“Please Master.”

“Good girl.”

All of her regret soon melted away into endless pleasure as Yaz did nothing more than gasp at the feeling of the Master’s tongue lapping up her full length like it was nothing. Her hips left the ground for a split second, leading an arm to drape over her stomach and forcibly pin her to the ground. It hurt not to be able to move, and yet Yaz waas more than okay with it. Eyes closing sharply again, there was little all to do apart from keep breathing as the Master continued to take her time in working her up to a point again. Her tongue was precise and strong, and quickly found out exactly how she needed to be touched. No time for gentleness, she needed the pressure and the sure strokes and everything focused of her aching clit. Her voice trailed off entirely as she felt a finger toying around and gradually making its way inside her. She welcomed the stretch and burn of the intrusion, never really having done anything like that despite her odd lonely night aboard the Doctor’s TARDIS. She felt too comfortable and too safe in the arms of a madwoman.

“Oh, you’re so beautiful Yaz…”

There were too many sensations, too much happening at once, so much so that Yaz could barely breathe. Her throat was dry and hoarse, tired out from restrained screams of delightful pleasure. Except the Master wanted more - she knew that - felt it in the way that she added another finger and twisted deeper inside her, felt it in the way that her tongue covered every inch of her skin as she feverishly lapped up her arousal and drove her so quickly to the edge of certain doom. But Yaz held on with every fibre of her being, bemoaning the possibility of such boundless pleasure ending so soon. The Doctor - her Doctor - could never compare to the Master. All of her hatred and rage had morphed into something so utterly mesmerising, that when her eyes opened and drifted down to see matted blonde hair against her thighs and the drag of her tongue, Yaz cursed the very universe itself for containing such beauty in something so dangerous. Just the sight alone would have been enough for her to lose herself entirely, but there was just something holding her back that she couldn’t quite recognise. A fear, possibly, or even a hope of something more beyond what was happening in that moment. Whatever it was, her resolve broke the second the Master crooked her fingers and whispered in her now trademark husk.

“Come for me.”

She did. Hard. Yaz felt her whole body tense up as the tight knot inside her tore apart. Her hips bucked upwards, almost catching the Master off guard but she remained resolute in holding her close to the floor. Wave upon wave of pleasure took over her whole body as Yaz felt like she was freefalling through the universe itself. Everything was so right, so perfect, and she moaned high as the Master rode her through the aftershocks and licked her clean. She shuddered, twitched, shaking breaths slowly coming together as she felt the Master creep up alongside her and tap her three times on the tip of her nose. When she opened her eyes, she was no longer looking at an adversary, but someone entirely more beautiful and alluring. Her lips were still wet with her arousal, cheeks flushed a deep crimson, but her eyes had gone from wide and wild to something softer and almost demure. There was a consideration behind them, one that Yaz would have thought impossible mere hours ago.

“Do you have any regrets, Yaz?”

The question caught her off-guard, especially still being lost in a heady lust, so much so that Yaz did a quick double take before shuffling to sit upright. She looked at the scattered clothes around the console room, looked down at herself as fingers tested the sore skin marred with bruises, and then back at the Master. As her self awareness returned, she thought about the Doctor. What would they say when she got back? What would they question her about first; the disappearance, or the dark marks and hot flush of her skin? Would they think she had been hurt, or would they just be able to tell what had happened? So many questions, not enough time to answer before the Master was laughing quietly to herself at her side.

“I’ll just go and take that as a no. Come on, gather yourself up. I’m still kicking you off the TARDIS. Can’t be doing with strays wandering around my ship. Especially not ones with such high morals. There’s too much hassle in that. But it was fun. I’ll say that much.”

Soon enough, Yaz was lifted up onto her feet and left to her own devices whilst the Master strode around the console and seemingly gave no care to dressing herself back up. Then again, it somehow fit her perfectly. It took longer than expected to redress herself, and Yaz was certainly taken aback when the Master approached her and held out a scarf in her hands. Before she could question the item, Yaz felt it wrapped around her neck and neatly tied to rest against her chest, the Master humming in appreciation of her handiwork.

“Just a little something to...hide prying eyes. Now then, I really do suggest you get off my ship. Lest I drop you into a supernova instead. Or, perhaps a black hole. There’s so many different ways you can kill a person, did you know?”

Without another word, nor looking behind her from fear of what she might see, Yaz made her way to the doors of the TARDIS, quietly surprised at how they opened for her. Once she was back outside in the dusty air walking towards the faded blue police box, she finally turned around to see a strange shack disappearing into nothingness. The silent sound of engines whirring quickly made way for the whistling winds, and only then did she remember the dull ache in her head. She was still none the wiser about how the Master had gotten a hold of her anyway. As she stopped in front of the TARDIS doors, running tired fingers over the woodwork, she felt something digging into the bruises on her neck. Yaz hastily unwound the scarf from around her, watching as something dropped out from beneath the woolen folds. Bending down to the dirt, she picked up a small rectangle of card, flipping it over to reveal a highly flourished message written in red ink.

_ ‘Ditch the Doctor, come find me. Your Master xoxo’ _

**Author's Note:**

> y'all ain't ready for pt2


End file.
